


Again

by Radium_225



Series: Sad Goth Musician Angst [2]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Zagreus/Orpheus, Non-Graphic Violence, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Open Relationship, Orpheus's actual mythological backstory, Recovery, Relationship Issues, Trauma, references to infidelity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-29 03:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30149769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radium_225/pseuds/Radium_225
Summary: Orpheus and Eurydice work through their relationship issues. Unfortunate things come to light.
Relationships: Eurydice/Orpheus (Hades Video Game)
Series: Sad Goth Musician Angst [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2219067
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Again

**Author's Note:**

> In the first draft of this, Eurydice was a lot meaner… I think it’s completely understandable for someone to be exasperated by Orpheus, but then my portrayal of their dynamic shifted and I brought Orpheus’s mythological backstory into the story, and it just felt inappropriate. Like… ‘Eurydice is intentionally coercing a broken, codependent man into an open relationship he feels pressured into accepting while knowingly making him jealous by sleeping with other people’ inappropriate. Hopefully I’ve struck a good balance between her having agency and being a caring, empathetic person.  
> I’ve also tried to give Orpheus a bit more of a backbone in this, like he was having a particularly bad day in that first installment.  
> I never use explicit terms, but Orpheus’s quirks are reminiscent of OCD. I thought it would suit him; the crux of the disorder is doubt, his fatal flaw.

In death, Orpheus has been doing well for himself. He hasn’t gotten himself into any of the boneheaded incidents that were so typical of his life, and Eurydice is proud of him.

Then Zagreus stops by to ask how he’s doing.

“You’d know better than I would, wouldn’t you?” she asks.

He’s been at the palace all day. Has  _ supposedly _ been at the palace all day.

Zagreus puts a hand on the back of his neck, shifts his weight from foot to foot, and admits that they _ may _ have made out. Just a little! Zagreus turned him down, and he seemed pretty upset about the whole ordeal. But he said he’d talk to her!

“Oh. Did he now?” She says.

Zagreus coughs and awkwardly excuses himself.

The famed musician himself shows up later that day, seemingly none the wiser. As he puts away his sparse belongings and takes his seat at the table, Eurydice finishes adding the last few spices to her stew. She likes to have something ready for him when he returns.

“I heard you got to make out with the prince. Good job, he’s a  _ real  _ catch!” she says.

“Oh. Er. Oh dear. I don’t suppose he told you anything else, perchance?”

“That he was very worried about you. And that you said you’d talk to me.” Eurydice crosses her arms.

“Ah. Ah, yes. I was merely composing my words. I did not truly intend to keep you in the dark…”

Eurydice lets out a huff and turns back to the stove. If he wants to talk, he can talk!

He pauses before continuing.

“I tried to bed him.”

“Orphy, we’ve talked about this. You’re allowed to do that.”

“There was… a third party, who we, uh, rather unfortunately, awoke with our… activities.”

“Oh? Sounds kinky.” 

Orpheus cringes.

“Ah… You are familiar with Hypnos, Sleep Incarnate, yes?” he continues.

Eurydice doubles over as if struck in the gut.

“Comatose Hypnos? Cursed, sickly, unwell Hypnos? That Hypnos?” she asks, gripping the counter for support.

“Er. Yes.”

“Don’t do that!” she snaps. “Orpheus, why do you need  _ me  _ to tell you this?”

“It was a moment of passion… I forgot myself.”

“Then don’t! Don’t do that!”

This isn’t new. He’s always been prone to spontaneous bouts of passion. Fits of needy, clingy affection. It was charming and bohemian until it wasn’t. In death, he’s been far less physical to the point where he hasn’t actually done anything beyond going down on her. And while it’s not like he leaves her wanting, she knows something is wrong. He doesn’t want to be touched, recoils like a frightened deer from all of her advances, and refuses to undress in front of her. He doesn’t even want to be palmed through his robes: he hadn’t rejected her, but his stoic, resigned looks said everything.

She’s asked, of course, but he’s cagey. The closest thing she’s gotten to an explanation is that it’s been difficult for him to reacclimate to a body after death.

(Not for her. Not for the prince, who’s died more times than any one being ought to have a right to.)

So it is understandably a bit concerning to find out he’s been going around trying to fuck people in front of their comatose friends.

“I was feeling wretched. We both were,” he says defensively.

“ _ No _ , Orpheus.”

“It can be a kind of comfort, can’t it?”

“You don’t know him, Orpheus. Not like that.” Neither one of you is rational. It’s just not a good idea.” Her tone is softer now.

“Oh, it was a  _ grotesque  _ act. Completely unforgivable. I understand that. But when I turned myself in for punishment, the prince refused me. Even poor Hypnos looked upon me with kindness.”

“Orpheus, have you talked to them about this?

“Oh. No, um. The prince absolutely insisted that I needed to talk to you instead.”

“And why do you think that was?” Eurydice asks, keeping her gaze firm.

“Ah… He mentioned you, actually… I got a little-”

Yes, she knows  _ exactly _ how he got.

“Insecure.” he adds, toying with his hair.

A little! A  _ little  _ insecure!

“About the thought of you… and other men…” he continues.

In life, there had never even been a question. The nymphs were hardly a monogamous race, and Orpheus was hardly a monogamous human. They were partners in song, and that was more than enough to feel secure in their relationship. She doesn’t understand his new jealous streak. He acts like she’s the only thing in the world preventing his fragile mind from buckling, and it’s scary!

“ _ Sleeping _ with other men? Or running off with them?”

“Er. The latter, mainly.”

“Orphy…” Eurydice says, frowning. 

A cloud of smoke draws her attention back to her pot of stew, long since finished simmering, but forgotten during their discussion. She curses under her breath and moves it onto the counter before circling back around behind Orpheus’s seat at their dining table and resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not going to  _ run off _ with anyone, okay? Honest to god. I’m not trying to hurt you… I  _ love _ you. But gods, if this is just tearing you up inside, then we shouldn’t-”

“No. I… I understand. It was a moment of weakness… I can handle myself.”

Can he? 

She changes tactics.

“We’re talking about your stay at the palace before last, right? I remember it. You stayed late.”

“Ah… Perhaps I did.”

“You said you wouldn’t do that.”

“I felt the spark of a song alight within my breast. I did not wish to see it snuffed.”

“Orphy!” she groans. “You always get like this when you don’t take breaks!”

“...Yes.”

“It can wait, alright? You can rest! You can take the time to get some food in you…” She returns her gaze to the neglected pot of soup left cooling on the counter. “Speaking of!”

She ladles him a generous bowl, but when she looks back at his emaciated figure, barely a scrap of a man, she reconsiders, and doubles it. She suspects he doesn’t eat anything unless she’s there to make him. Maybe he doesn’t technically  _ need _ to, being dead and all, but the idea of it doesn’t sit right with her.

They eat for a time in silence. Once his hands have grown steady and he holds his head a little higher, she takes it as her cue to continue the conversation.

“Do you want to talk about those… insecurities?”

“...No. It was all nonsense. You don’t need to hear any of it. I wouldn’t subject you to-”

“If there’s something that I’m doing…”

“No… um. No. It’s not really about you. It’s about me.”

Eurydice has to bite back a “Yes, that’s how most things are with you, Orpheus!” He’s trying, at least. 

He doesn’t say anything else, and she refuses to force it out of him, so the awkward silence returns.

Orpheus does dishes by himself, but Eurydice is antsy. She’s been alone in the house for god knows how long, and while it once was easy to tolerate, breaking the habit has left her craving human contact. 

She approaches from behind and nuzzles her face into his hair. It’s so much longer than it was in life! She touches a lock of it to her lips.

“You smell nice. I like that you’ve been taking care of yourself.”

Orpheus laughs nervously.

“Thank you. I don’t know how you ever put up with me.”

“Because you’re cute, mostly.” She can’t resist a pinch of his unexpectedly soft rear. That’s new too. “Getting cuter…”

Orpheus yelps like an animal and freezes. 

Eurydice yanks her hands away from him, as if from a hot stove.

“Orphy!? Are you alright?” He’s always flustered easily, always blushed and been driven to speechlessness under her touch, but he’s not supposed to be outright scared of her. 

“Fine! Fine! Just... startled! He exhales sharply and takes care to smooth the fabric she touched back into place.

“You’re not… self-conscious about your ass, are you?” she hazards a guess. 

She remembers her poor, skinny little Orphy, thin enough for her to cup a cheek in each hand. Cute in his own way, certainly, but there’s something more opulent, more mature, more  _ fertile _ about him now, and she only wishes he’d let her take a look at him.

“No. No, not specifically…” he trails off in a way that suggests he has a hell of a lot more to say about the topic. Eurydice gives him a look.

“Ah… Would you allow me a moment of thought? ” Orpheus asks, voice wavering.

“Of course…”

It lasts longer than she expects. 

It goes against every instinct in her body to leave him be while he’s clearly suffering, so she moves her hands to his shoulders for a massage.

“This is okay?” she murmurs.

He sighs an affirmative, and melts backwards into her touch. Though they’re not as bony as they used to be, he still holds too much tension in those poor, overworked shoulders. As she hones in on a knot on the side of his neck, he lolls his head to the side obediently to allow her better access. He falls limp under her ministrations, and for a moment, everything is normal.

“The room in which I was imprisoned was very, very dark,” he begins at last. Eurydice grits her teeth. “No… mirrors or anything of the sort. Obviously. One could look down and see only darkness in place of one’s own feet.”

“You poor thing... “ Eurydice whispers.

“One… One pleasures oneself from time to time,” he continues, wincing through the obscenity. “One tries to give oneself  _ some _ sensation as a reminder that one does indeed have a body. But in time, even the primal urges are just…” Orpheus lacks words. He shakes his head compulsively, as if to expel whatever taint remains on it.

“Oh… Oh no, Orphy, I’m so sorry...” Eurydice stills her hands and squeezes him.

“And then, emerging back into light… There isn’t language to describe it. It no longer feels like my body is my own.”

“You’re not used to it yet… It takes time. It takes using it, and looking at it, and-”

“Oh Olympus, that was even worse.  _ Looking _ at myself.” He laughs, stalling as he carefully selects his words. He eventually settles on “ _ Revolting _ .”

“Stop that…” she whispers, pressing her body against his. “You were tortured… deprived…  _ sick _ . And now you’re not. Gods, Orpheus, you can’t base your entire self-conception on-”

“It’s gotten worse.” he says, very quietly. 

“Orpheus, that’s not true.” 

“Ah… You misunderstand me. Or rather, I speak poorly. I’m not so vain as to - I did not intend to paint my anxieties as stemming from a mere...  _ dishevelment _ .”

“Then what are you talking about?” Eurydice asks, furrowing her brows.

“I… I… Oh Olympus, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Must I lose my eloquence as well? Have the fates not taken enough?”

“Orphy… please. It’s because you haven’t been talking about this… You can take all the time you need to explain, but I don’t think it’s healthy to keep all of this locked up inside. You don’t have to suffer through this alone… Olympus knows you’ve done enough of that already.”

“Must I?” he asks with an uncharacteristically ugly tinge. “Must I explain?” 

“Orpheus, you’re scaring me. I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“Here!” he shouts as he whirls around and jabs a frail hand into her ribcage, snapping back to his senses after impact. “Um. Sorry. Are you alright, dearest?”

Eurydice nearly rolls her eyes at the idea of him having enough strength to wound her.

“Yes, Orphy. What are you talking about?” Her gaze is steely and focused.

“Um.” He indicates his wrist. “If you could look at the bones… Ah… I suppose you can’t quite see them. You probably don’t know what they look like either… “

How does  _ he _ know what they look like?

“Orpheus…”

“But it’s not actually a singular mass…” he continues. “In reality, it’s quite the amalgamation of little shapes… “ He scrubs at the skin with his nail, as if trying to remove a fleck of dirt. “But the way everything’s been decaying, I fear they’ve grown a bit... Jumbled.” He cringes like he’s hit a bad note. “Oh, that was  _ terrible. _ Let me try again-”

“Orpheus… What?”

“Um. It’s easier if I allow you to compare them.” He holds out his other arm in parallel. “You can see that they don’t… quite… align.” He stares at the offending appendages, eyes looking a bit wild. “Um. You see what I’m talking about, yes?” 

They’re wrists. Eurydice is silent.

“Because I do all my fingerings with this hand,” he continues, waggling them to demonstrate. “There’s more wear and tear. You can see that bump is a tad lower…”

“No… No, I don’t see.”

“It’s the lighting,” he snaps, sounding almost irritated. “If I just…” 

He turns so that he’s perpendicular to his previous position, lifts his hands higher and studies them, as if it’s more for his own understanding than Eurydice’s.

Eurydice snatches his arms and gives them a generous shake. 

“Orpheus. Orpheus, look at me. They’re wrists.” 

He does not look at her. Instead, he gives a tentative nod of the head.

“They’re really quite important for a musician... For a time, I thought I’d never return to the lyre. I didn’t take proper care of myself… But now that I’ve gained some tiny semblance of a life back, I… I just. If I were to lose  _ that _ too…”

“You’re not going to lose anything else, Orpheus... you’re already dead!”

“It hurts…” he nearly sobs. “I spend every ounce of spare time attempting to keep it in proper condition, but even still it gives me pains. I can feel it as it degrades further and further...”

“Wait… Orpheus!” she says, struck by a sudden memory. ”This used to happen all the time when we were alive, didn’t it? I was always nagging you about keeping up with your stretches, but of course, you’d  _ never _ listen to me. You’d always wait until you’d been practicing for ten hours straight or something ridiculous until you were in too much pain to continue. Then, you’d mess it up so bad stretching it that you’d be out of commission for days. And… I’d always give you an earful.” Eurydice slows. “...but I could never stay mad, because if you were too injured to practice, I finally got to have you all to myself.”

Orpheus finally brings his solemn gaze up to meet hers.

“Oh…” he says quietly.

“I’m right, aren’t I? It’s the same as it’s always been. Nothing’s…  _ degrading _ , or anything ridiculous like that. You’ve just been too embarrassed to talk to anyone about it. So it’s been destroying you.”

Orpheus purses his lips in thought. He looks like he’s just run a marathon; sweat pasting hair to brow, breaths deep and ragged.

“Thank you, muse… You are as wise as you are beautiful. I am truly sorry for that outburst… My memory has been hazy as of late.” Orpheus groans quietly. “My mind must be going.”

“You’re not crazy Orpheus. That whole rant made about as much sense to you as it did to me. You  _ know _ it’s nonsense…”

“Then why am I thinking it?” he asks, frustration creeping back into his voice

“I don’t know. I’m sorry, Orphy…” 

They stand for a time in silence. Eurydice inches closer and lets her head loll forward until her forehead bumps against his chin. Orpheus hesitates, then wraps around her with delicate precision, barely firm enough to sense. She feels like a cradled baby bird.

“I’d never be mad about something like this, alright?” she says. “It’s so trivial... I don’t want you feeling like you can’t talk about what’s been hurting you.”

Orpheus shudders.

“That wasn’t the only thing bothering you, was it?” she asks reluctantly.

“I do not wish to speak of this.” He pulls himself away and puffs his chest up in a mockery of resolve. He looks terrified.

“I know you don’t, Orphy. I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything if it wouldn’t help.” she says solemnly. “But… you know I worry about you.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop that.” Eurydice rubs her temples. “Is it all just similar stuff to what you’ve already told me?”

“Yes.”

“And you know it’s all nonsense?”

“Sometimes.”

“Good. Better than nothing.” Eurydice forces a bit of pep into her voice and stands up straighter. It only makes Orpheus’s terrible posture look more pathetic by comparison.

“Do you think you could tell me when you’re getting thoughts like this?” she asks hesitantly. 

Panic flashes across Orpheus’s face, and for a moment, she’s afraid he’ll bolt.

“No! Ugh, sorry.” she says, cringing. “You don’t have to explain anything you’re not comfortable with. But I’d really like to know when you’re suffering… If you’re alright with that, I mean.”

Orpheus goes limp as a ragdoll as the adrenaline drains back out of him. 

“Perhaps that would be reasonable.” He flashes teeth in a frazzled, nervous smile.

“I don’t know if it’ll help… If it doesn’t, you don’t have to do it. But… You’ve spent so much time alone. It’s killing you.” 

She rubs gentle circles into his palms with her thumb, too anxious to touch anywhere else. She’s always been a physical person, and if contact sends him spiralling, then she’s useless. 

“Dearest muse… could we go back to the previous topic of conversing? It’s nice to rediscover old memories…” Orpheus says dreamily.

His expression is off-kilter. He doesn’t look entirely present.

So she cuts him some slack. She’s gotten more out of him than she’s been able to for Olympus knows how long, and she’s honestly not sure if she’s in the mood to hear anything else. She’s _ certainly _ not in the mood for forcing it out of him.

“Alright… You showed a lot of strength today, okay? Thank you for that… If it’ll calm you down, we can talk about the good old days.”

Orpheus is slow to respond. He has one of those dreamy, half-lidded expressions, so she nudges him to snap him out of it

“Ah… Yes.” Orpheus laughs. “You’ve always had a remarkable tolerance for my fits of stubbornness… When I’d injure myself, you’d scowl, and pretend, but after all was said and done, it felt more like a reward than a punishment. You were absolutely insatiable.” A pale orchid blush dusts his cheeks.

Eurydice frowns because it sounds pretty bad when you just lay it out like that. She never wanted to enable him or encourage his reckless habits… And she can’t help but wonder how similar those episodes in life actually were to what he’s going through now. She was younger and stupider, but she couldn’t possibly have missed something as obvious as this… could she?

“I… I just wanted to help. I thought I was helping.”

“Oh muse, you were wonderful. I could scarcely hope to keep up with you… You practically confined me to our bed with delirious, beautiful exhaustion!”

Orpheus pulls her close, and runs his hands along her body with trembling, nervous reverence. They linger on the curve of her rear a bit too long for comfort.

She snatches his roaming hands and unpeels him from her body.

“Okay, no. We’re not doing this.”

Orpheus looks sheepish. 

“I was just thinking that it might be nice to go back to the way things were... Unless of course, you would not prefer it.” Orpheus glances at her nervously, searching for approval.

“Orpheus, you nearly had a fit because I touched your ass.”

“I’m sorry! Oh god, Eurydice… sweetest nymph… precious muse… I’ve been wanting you for ages and ages and ages. I just… oh… A poor, broken soul like me, barring my scars even further? What would a god care about a withered mortal body? We must all look rather similar to them… But…  _ you _ , my immaculate muse…”

Her breath catches in her throat.

“Orpheus… I could never… You know I’d never…”

He collapses into her, breathes in the scent of her neck, and snakes his arms around her sturdy torso.

“Gorgeous boy… come on now…” she soothes.

“Oh my love… you are  _ immaculate _ .” he gasps between sobs.

“Of course I want to sleep with you, you fool! But I don’t want to hurt you. If you really think you’re ready, then we can work up to it, alright? But I’m not risking it right now. It should be enjoyable. We should do it for its own sake.”

“Soon,” he says quietly. “I’ve missed you.”


End file.
